


Razzed

by agent_cupcake



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Edgeplay, F/M, Possessive Behavior, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 01:14:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28948014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agent_cupcake/pseuds/agent_cupcake
Summary: yandere prompt number 5 - ”Don’t think of it as a ‘punishment’… it’s more of a lesson.”
Relationships: Claude von Riegan/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 83





	Razzed

“Wow, you’re _really_ tense,” Claude said, breaking the kiss and sitting up on his knees. You tried to sit up and follow him, only to be stopped by the rope he’d used to bind your wrists to one of the bedposts. Making it worse, Claude slowly ran his fingers over your inner thigh, pulling a full body shudder through you. Your legs opened in an uncharacteristically lewd and desperate invitation. But he didn’t take it like he usually would, his hand retreating. “You want me pretty bad, don’t you?”

You blinked up at him, confused. After what seemed like hours of waiting through one of the many boring open meetings held by the Alliance nobles and the following feast, you had only just got to the best part of the night. Both of you were half undressed on his bed and breathless from kissing. Your body —and his, if you weren’t mistaken— was more than ready for his. The bondage thing was new, but you hadn’t really thought too much of it when he made the suggestion. At least, not until right then as you stared up at him and realized something. You were vulnerable, on display, and entirely helpless beneath him. More than that, nothing that happened when Claude von Riegan wore a smile like that could possibly result in anything but trouble.

_Oh, that man_. 

That infuriating, troublesome, terrible, cocky, and sexy _villain_ of a man.

Indignant frustration that he would do this, that he’d deny you even after you’d already waited so long, mostly covered for the humiliation of being in such a prone position. Mostly. You pulled hard on the knots around your wrists, displeased to find how well they held.

“Claude...” you said, making your annoyance clear.

“That is what people generally call me, yes,” he agreed. “It’s not really an answer, though. Maybe I was off the mark. There must be some other explanation for how audacious and, dare I say, brazen you’ve been recently. Not to mention how easy it’s been to work you up. It’s like you don’t even _care_ about propriety anymore.” He clicked his tongue, shaking his head in a mockery of disappointment.

That got you. It was intended to, you knew by his cheeky smile and tone of voice that he was doing his very best to get you riled, but you still opened your mouth to respond to the taunt because he’d gotten you all wound up only to tie your hands together and leave you simmering in a state of lustful need which you truly weren’t appreciating this even in the slightest. And now, adding insult to injury. Before you could tell him exactly how impudent he was, Claude pressed his hand right between your legs, grinding his palm into your clothed sex and leaving you with nothing but a breathless whimper.

“All it takes is a bit of kissing, some touching, and a length of rope to leave you speechless… Huh,” Claude mused. “The conference should be taking notes, I’m sure they’d have a lot easier time without you butting in.”

“I am not,” you said, trying to find some composure, to keep yourself from grinding into his hand and panting like a bitch in heat. You wanted to retain some dignity. “Not speechless. And I don’t appreciate whatever it is you think you’re doing, Claude. So untie me and-”

“There’s my arrogant brat,” Claude told you fondly, cutting you off by switching out his palm for the more focused touch of his fingers, using the wet fabric of your panties to rub teasing circles over your clit and effectively shutting you up.

Being dazed by pleasure under his relatively unaffected gaze was more embarrassing than you dared to admit. Usually, there was comfort in the give and take nature of sex, but now his eyes were lucid as they studied each minute reaction you couldn’t help but give. It was like Claude was literally toying with you. 

“You know,” he mused, “in a way, this is your fault.”

“How is it _my_ fault?” you demanded, although your breathless voice did little to portray your indignance properly.

“Before you, I never really thought something like this could be fun,” Claude said, acting as if you hadn’t spoken. “Guess I’ve always liked the idea of grounding the nobility little bit, making them see the error of their hubris, but seeing you —the very picture of a scheming, well-bred Alliance noblewoman— tied up and helpless like this is something else.”

Your breath hitched, your hips unintentionally bucking into the fingers he hadn’t removed. Humiliation at the unconscious reaction made your face flush, but it’d be a lie to say that’s all you felt. You closed your eyes to Claude’s resulting smug smile, trying to squirm away without much success. “P-pervert,” you accused. 

“Ouch. You should know that this isn’t just for my own benefit,” Claude said, teasing you through your underwear without any remorse. The added friction of your panties made for a different sensation, more generalized. But good. Really good. “It’s not like I can just _reward_ you for the way you’ve been behaving lately.

“What?” you asked. The single syllable was just about all you could manage with the tantalizing promise of pleasure distracting you. You could confront him about his unacceptable etiquette later, but for now, all you wanted was to come undone underneath his perfect torture. Perhaps there was some shame in how little it took, but you were too starved to care.

“Don’t pretend to be innocent, I see right through your tricks,” Claude told you. “Someone has to do something about your chronic indecency and, as the leader of our fair nation, that burden can only be my own.”

“This is... because I was teasing you?” you asked incredulously, breathlessly, hardly registering the words. You were getting close, you could feel the swell of pleasure tightening in your core. You had needed this all night. No, you’ve needed this for a few days at this point, craved him desperately. 

“No, no, it’s much worse than that,” Claude said, removing his hand altogether from between your legs. You whined in objection, your hips jumping off the bed to follow. Pointlessly, considering you had no leverage. Claude’s expression was pitiless, watching you squirm with a slight smile. “You’ve been setting an example of morally corrupt behavior among our fair elite.”

“Nobody _knows_ ,” you told him, knowing a whiny tone was sinking into your voice but unable to save face when all you could think about was how badly you wanted to come, “just you… I’m not reckless.” 

“Am I not to count myself as a member of the fair elite?” Claude asked, adopting an air of the nobles he privately disdained.

“Some people don’t think so,” you sputtered, unsure if you should focus on what he was saying or your anger or your mounting sexual frustration.

“True.” Claude finally hooked his fingers under the top hem of your soaked panties. ”I didn’t realize your new friends were such bad influences,” he said, pulling them off —practically peeling the soaked fabric away from your drenched pussy— and baring your body entirely. “Maybe they’re to blame for your newfound deviance.”

You tried weakly at the knots again, trying to press your thighs together for even a semblance of relief, but Claude made that impossible, forcing your legs spread on either side of his hips. He was still wearing underwear, sure, but you could see the outline of his cock under the thin fabric, could almost imagine what it would feel like inside of you. Just the thought had your lips parting, tremor-like sparks running down to your core in anticipatory need.

“They’re _not_ my friends,” you said, distracted by that all-consuming need. “And I’m _not_ deviant.”

“Is that a fact?” Claude asked dryly, although you found yourself unable to care about the words or his tone when he dragged his middle finger up from your entrance to your swollen clit, spreading your arousal over the fevered flesh. After only feeling his touch through the constricting fabric, it was nearly more than could bear, making you shudder. “But that’s not the point,” Claude continued, teasing your clit with the calloused pad of his thumb. The pressure was so good, so _sweet_ , but it wasn’t enough. “The thing is… Are you listening? This is very important. I might test you on it later.”

“I am,” you gasped, nodding fervently. You probably would have said anything if it meant he’d stop playing with you like this.

“Good,” he said with a smile, rewarding you with a little more pressure, massaging the bundle of nerves with an expert touch. “The thing is that I wouldn’t have even thought of doing this if you weren’t such a tease. I can handle you being a noble brat. Actually, I think it’s kinda cute. Certainly not enough to want to see you squirm like this. But after today, I was left with little recourse.”

“I’m... mm... Not a tease,” you said mindlessly, your ears dead to the specifics of his words. Already, his touch was enough to send you over the edge. Not just the touch, his voice, the sight of him posed between your legs. Goddess save you. Miscreant or not, Claude was an addictive lover. Your breathing was frantic, so wound up that you knew you could come just from this. And soon. More, just a little more-

Claude pulled his hand away.

An unintentional whine slipped from your lips, a genuinely pathetic sound dredged up from your very core. “Claude,” you pled in a broken voice, hoping that it was pitiful enough to garner even a scrap of pity.

He moved up your body, bracing himself on his elbows to wipe away the tear sliding down your cheek with his lips. You pulled at your wrists, wanting to delve your fingers into the mess of his hair, to tug him down into a proper kiss, to force him to move at your pace. But you couldn’t.

“You’re cuter like this than I thought,” Claude said, his breath displacing the fine hairs along your scalp, raising chills on your neck. “I like it. A lot. And I want to help you out, believe me, I do.”

“Then do,” you urged desperately, arching your back to press yourself against him. “Fuck me, Claude. Now.”

He inhaled sharply in surprise, a low groan vibrating in his chest. Unfortunately, Claude was better at composing himself than you were, sitting back up and leaving your sweaty bare skin to the mercy of the cooler air. “Wow. Such coarse language for a fine young lady,” he said. “You’ll have to do better than that, though.”

“You’re terrible,” you told him desperately. “I just want-” His hand returned to where you needed it most, dragging his fingers over your slit as a reminder of how wet you were and you moaned, feeling so close to coming just with the shallow brush of sensation.

“Think about it this way,” he said. “It’ll be so much better when you _do_ get to come, right?” Not seeming to care about your response, which was something like a sobbing moan, he continued to torture you. “Me? I’m not so big on delayed gratification. Or, I didn’t use to be. You’ve taught me a lot about myself.”

With a terribly lewd wet, squelching sound, he slid three fingers into your aching pussy, dragging them along your fluttery inner walls. You could feel the way those muscles contracted around the intrusion. The stretch might have been too much normally, but you couldn’t feel anything but need. You groaned deeply, your eyes closing as everything within you focused on that singular point of stimulation.

“For example,” Claude said conversationally, thrusting those fingers into you, curling them expertly. But always too slow. Not enough, it wouldn’t be enough to get you off and you both knew it but you didn’t care, too desperate in your attempt to _make_ it enough to think. Claude continued regardless of your preoccupation, “I didn’t think I was a jealous type of guy. I’ve always been confident in my ability to take the things I wanted. It’s never been… Like this. I don’t even know how to describe it, but I feel so…” His voice trailed off, leaving only the wet sounds of his fingers to fill the silence. If you weren’t so far gone, you might have admired the fact that the normally collected Claude seemed to be at a loss for words. “I don’t like it when people look at you like they want you,” he finally admitted.

“Can’t we… talk later?” you asked, doing your best to make the words coherent with your wildly unsteady breathing.

In response, Claude pulled his fingers out to run a wet trail down your trembling thigh. You whined at the loss, more tears sliding down your face. “Here I was, thinking that getting you all wound up would help. But instead, all I can think about is how fantastic it would feel to fuck you. I mean, don’t get me wrong, it would be. But that’s not why I did this.”

“Of course it is!” you exclaimed shakily, almost panicked as you tried to figure out what it would take to get what you wanted. There was one thing. “Please,” you said, deliberate and desperate. Begging was beneath you, but in this case, maybe it was okay. You could blame Claude, later. “Please fuck me.”

His eyes widened in surprise. “Sorry, what was that?” he asked. “I’m not sure if I heard you correctly. Surely a lady like you would never stoop to saying such things… Right?”

“Please,” you repeated. He was playing with you and you didn’t care, as long as he touched you. “Please, Claude. I’m begging you, pl-”

“Okay, okay, I got it,” he told you indulgently, draped in an aura of superiority. 

Even in desire, he held onto that. Or especially. It was something that drove you wild, and that you hated. There was the intoxicating hunger of raw lust in his eyes, in the way his lips were parted and half upturned in a smirk. He looked down at you with his chin tilted up, his gorgeous eyes half lidded and dark lashes casting shadows across his cheeks, leading to the lines of sharp jaw and neck. You’d never thought men could have attractive necks before. But Claude? You were magnetically drawn to the dramatic lines of the tendons when they flexed beneath his flawless skin, the bobbing of his adam’s apple when he swallowed. You closed your eyes to the distraction and his pitiless, fascinated expression, a whine in your throat as you realized that even the begging hadn’t swayed him.

“I’ve been thinking…” Claude said, unbothered by your festering plight. “We should make our relationship public. The only reason we haven’t is because of some nebulous risk it poses to the sanctity of my position, right? But at this point, my only alternative to taking that chance is going mad watching you prance around court like Fódlan’s finest jade and being unable to do anything about it.”

Once more, his terrible, dexterous hand slipped between your legs, easily seeking out your swollen clit. As wonderful as the sensation was, as intoxicatingly pleasurable as his touch felt, it wasn’t the type meant to do anything other than tease you. To drive you insane.

“What do you think?” he prompted.

That was a question you were supposed to respond to. You _had_ to answer. Think. You had to think. The lost part of your mind that he’d taken and replaced with insatiable lust knew that there were so many other reasons why you’d avoided making your relationship with the leader of the Leicester Alliance known. Not the least because there was a war raging in the world around you. Claude’s tenuous placement of power as he played against the split factions of the Alliance could be aggravated by the unnecessary addition of a relatively unimportant noblewoman. Not to mention your family, your friends. Image was everything, after all. Going public together was a really, really bad idea.

You didn’t care.

“Oh-okay,” you agreed. “That’s fine.”

“Wow, that was easy,” Claude said, grinning again. “I have to admit, this is a good look for you —agreeable, pliant, desperate… Aside from some attitude problems, you’ve been pretty good for me.”

You nodded enthusiastically. “I have...I have, so please let me-”

“Let’s just go over everything, okay? I’d hate for you to forget.”

“What?” you asked hoarsely. He was still distracting you with that not-enough touch, keeping you from focusing on anything other than your need. “Uhm…”

“Yeah?” Claude asked indulgently, opening your legs even further so he could sink more fully between them as he moved back up your body.

“I… I don’t know,” you said, more tears slipping from your eyes in frustration, in desperation.

“Do you need a hint?” Claude asked in between a line of kisses up your tummy.

“Yes, please,” you begged.

“Is acting out in public to get my attention a good or bad idea?” he asked sweetly, his thumb landing once more on your aching clit.

“B-bad,” you answered, the word broken and labored as you fought against every impulse you had to stay still underneath the cruelly teasing friction.

“Are you sorry?”

“Yes! ‘m so-s…” you cried out when his lips closed around one of your nipples, swirling his tongue around the sensitive peak. “Sorry!”

He pulled off with a slick pop of a sound, scraping his teeth lightly along the skin as he moved up. “Another thing-”

“Claude, _please_ ,” you whined.

“I know, I know,” he told you, smug satisfaction practically oozing from the condescending consolation as he finally brought himself face to face with you. “This is the last one, okay?”

Your breath came out in hitching increments, but you nodded.

“This thing between us is good,” Claude said. “Better than I could have dreamed. And as for you... You want me —need me, even. There’s _nobody_ else, right?”

Your stomach twisted with the heavy, heady, dark suggestion in the leading question. And his eyes, that slight frown. The urgency you felt in getting your answer. “Nobody,” you told him anyway, going against everything in you that recognized the danger in that suggestion. At that point, you probably would have agreed to just about anything. “Just you, only you. I’m yours.”

Claude smiled, his eyes lighting up in an adorable way. “You’re mine,” he said. “I like that. Okay, I think I can find it within myself to forgive you.”

“You’re.. d-done punishing me?” you asked, practically begging him with your eyes.

”Don’t think of it as a ‘punishment’,” Claude said happily, finally, _finally_ pulling off his underwear, “it’s more of a lesson.”


End file.
